


A Little Stuck

by TheSolarSurfer



Series: Tron [2]
Category: Tron - All Media Types, Tron: Uprising
Genre: Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Humor, One Shot, Rescue, Snark, beck gets in trouble, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 13:36:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6008239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSolarSurfer/pseuds/TheSolarSurfer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Beck gets into a little trouble while trespassing. He calls on Tron to help him out. Quips and some good old-fashioned bonding ensue. One-Shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Stuck

Beck actually thought he was doing pretty well until the Sentries caught up with him.

Apparently, someone had the grand idea to update the average soldier’s Lightcycle, and now Beck had to ditch his bike, disappearing into a warehouse and hoping he could at least outpace them on the roofs.

There had to be at least six, if not more. As Beck hopped over air ducts and ducked under piping and catwalks, he kept searching for some viable exit, a convenient hiding spot – before the Sentries wised up and got the choppers. Or worse, Recognizers. There was no way Beck could outrun those.

But he could run faster, thanks to a few updated protocols (unsanctioned, maybe, but it wasn’t like Flynn was around to tell him no). And Beck knew this city like the back of his hand. That was a User idiom he learned from Abel a while ago, but still didn’t quite understand. The back of Beck’s hand was quite unremarkable and plain, while Argon was a complex, glowing mass of streets and tunnels and Programs, all stacked on top of each other. So, basically, _nothing_ like a hand.

Users were weird. How did Tron ever get along with them?

These thoughts were only a minor distraction as Beck jumped the gap from a warehouse roof to a crane. He teetered around the tiny lip of the column, bracing his back against the metal as the Sentries behind him skidded to a stop at the edge of the roof. They couldn’t all go at once, and as Beck was making his way to the other side, a quick glance over his shoulder revealed one particularly brave Sentry throw himself forward, only for his footing to slip and fall away from the edge.

Beck closed his eyes and turned his head away when the Sentry dissolved into voxels on the ground below.

He couldn’t lose his nerve now. Beck instead turned his focus on the roof below. It was kind of a steep drop, but one leap later, Beck landed with a roll, getting back to his feet in less than a second and returning to the helter-skelter that was this mad plan of Tron’s.

Apparently, Tesler had thought he could exert power over Argon by creating a gridlock in the ports, denying access to much needed imported goods that the people of the city needed. The city was outraged, but Tesler’s forces were much stronger than the average Program, and none dared to incite the wrath of Clu.

The very idea of the admin coming to this city sent painful jolts of energy through Beck’s circuits. If Clu ever caught wind of the Resistance here, of its growing strength, then everyone was doomed.

Anyways, Tron’s plan was to sabotage Tesler’s plan. Sounds basic enough, right? Wrong. Turns out, Tron expected Beck to just go in, blow up a couple guard towers, destroy the Occupation’s shipment of weapons and tanks – and escape without being seen or caught – as if was that easy. No mention of the extra patrols Beck had to avoid, or the User-damned _Black Guard_ that walked aboard the warbrig, or how he saw Tesler himself, talking to a blurry hologram on his comm. Beck didn’t get a good look of the face, but he had a pretty good feeling it wasn’t anyone nice.

And yet, Beck surprised himself by actually succeeding every objective. Okay, he got, like, 75% completed, and that’s only because Beck accidentally fell through some shoddy scaffolding and right square in the middle of some very surprised dock-worker Programs, who then called the alarm because they’re bit-heads — but that’s still good, right?

Considering the five Sentries still hot on his tail, Tron might disagree.

Another great plan, foiled only by one misplaced foot and a twenty-unit drop.

“Look out!”

Beck hadn’t seen the dockworker on break until the last second. The dock-worker yelped when he saw some crazy Program barreling towards him at full speed. He tried to duck out of the way, but only collided with Beck, who swerved in the same direction to get away.

The dock-worker was knocked away, landing safely behind some pipes sticking out of the floor. Beck went head over heels over the edge of the warehouse, between two very tall buildings.  

“Whoa!”

Beck thought this was it. He saw gray land rushing towards him and couldn’t decide if he should pray or curse the Users, because right now he couldn’t decide if they were to blame for all this, or himself, for being so stupid as to agree to all this. Tron had warned him that this could be the price of uprising, and Beck decided, in that moment, that if this bit-brained plan worked, then it might as well be worth it.

All this passed through his processor in a single moment – Beck expecting to Derez at any moment – only it never came.

He hit something about half-way down. It caught around his gut, nearly splitting him in half, but Beck managed to hold on despite his surprise. He groaned, coughing, his exhaust system glitching from impact – before looking up and finding himself clinging to a long, very thin line hanging from a crane.

It had been lifting up pieces of flat building material, apparently shut down before the task could be finished. Whatever the reason, it just saved his life, and Beck thanked his User that the one particularly lazy dock-worker that operated the crane.

He hung there, spinning gently on the planks, trying to find a way off. It was still too far a fall to survive, and there were no nearby ledges he could  jump onto.

“He’s still alive!”

Beck looked up, seeing the Sentries having finally caught up. Their staffs were alight, but they didn’t seem particularly concerned with attacking him. Not that they **could** , since he was all the way down here.

“Look at him!” one laughed. “He can’t be Tron! He’s too stupid!”

Beck scowled, but decided not to argue the point. He really didn’t want to motivate them into actually doing their job.

“What should we do?” one Sentry asked. They seemed amused by Beck’s situation. “We can’t reach him.”

“ _Beck, where are you_?” A voice said in his ear. Tron. Beck wanted to smack himself in the head for forgetting – the rendezvous point. He was late. “ _The jet’s waiting. What’s taking you so long_?”

“I’m, um,” Beck tried to find the right words. “I’m stuck.”

“ _What did you do this time_?”

Great, now he’s angry. Beck wanted to roll his eyes. The Sentries were still discussing what to do about him up above. “Let’s just say that I’m hanging on a limb. Can you help me out?”

He heard Tron sigh.“ _That’s not part of the plan, Beck._ ”

“Well, the original kind of sucked anyways.” Beck watched in growing dread as one of the Sentries reached out with his staff, striking the rope with the glowing end of his weapon. He chipped off a piece and the rest of the rope started to Derezz. He blurted, “Look, I’m about to get turned into a grease spot on the pavement, so maybe we can amend the plan and you hurry up and get me a little sooner, okay?”

“ _You know, its going to be hard to convince people you’re me when I have to keep rescuing you like this_.” Tron said, yet Beck heard the engine of the jet starting through his comm-link, and smiled to himself.

“Hey, this was your plan! Besides, weren’t you the one that said to never count on a plan working out perfectly?” Beck got to his feet, wobbling dangerously as the planks beneath him shifted. The rope was fraying fast – the voxels growing upwards towards the crane. And yet, Beck made himself stay calm. “And since when did I always need rescuing?”

“ _Since you let Cyrus out of his cage._ ”

“Oh, come on! That wasn’t my fault! He knew what was going to happen!”

“ _Sure, sure. And I suppose letting him go was just you being nice_?”

Beck grumbled under his breath, not willing to argue the point. Tron had some interesting ideas on how to handle enemy Programs, ideas that Beck didn’t quite agree with.  But now he could hear the jet engines echoing in the air. The Sentries heard it too, looking around and trying to spot its source. They scrambled as a blue arc appeared over their heads – Tron incoming, and fast.

“…We need reinforcments!” One Sentry ordered as another ran to get help. “There’s another rebel!”

The rope was almost completely derezzed now – micro-units away from the end of the crane. Beck’s attention skipped between the two, hoping that the jet would reach him before the ground did.

The jet nose-dived, slipping between towers and warehouses, its small size fitting between the streets with barely enough space to maneuver.

Beck bent his knees, preparing to jump. There was no time for Tron to stop and wait for him to board. He had to jump.

Beck’s exhaust system was working overtime as his fear started to catch up with him. His processor skipped and for a second, he didn’t recall what happened next.

The jet’s nose reached his feet.

The rope snapped.

Beck threw himself forward.

The boards disappeared beneath him.

The tip of the wing scraped against the side of the warehouse, leaving a long gouge of derezzing voxels when Beck landed on the tail of the plane. He slid across the smooth metal before he caught one spoiler with his arms, hanging on for dear life as Tron jammed the steering down and the jet shot up at nearly a ninety degree angle.

“I said save my life!” Beck called as his legs kicked over thin air. “Not delete me yourself!”

At first, Beck didn’t know if Tron could hear over the wind, but he thought he heard a faint laugh. “Trust me, you made it hard to decide.”

“Oh, har har,” Beck muttered as the jet evened out and slowed a little. They were far away from the docks, from Argon, and now flying over the Outlands. The Sentries and their threat far behind. Beck managed to drag himself over to the cockpit, which slid open and allowed him inside.

Beck flopped in his seat, panting slightly. His helmet derezzed and he sunk into the chair, near ready to hibernate. “So, how’d I do? Does the whole Grid want to delete us now?”

“Not if I can help it,” Tron replied, and Beck threw him an odd look. For a split second, he thought he saw a smile on that old grump’s face. “The tanks are gone and Tesler’s forces are in chaos. ”

“So…you’re not angry at me?”

“Why would I be angry?” Tron raised a confused eyebrow. “You completed the main objective as asked.”

“But I screwed up. They saw me. Aren’t I in trouble?”

“Of course you are.” Tron said matter-of-factly, throwing Beck a look that said this wasn’t over. “That’s why you’re going to fix my other Lightcycle?”

“But I already did it the last time!”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t have left it at the docks.”

Beck sighed, bending his head back against the chair. He was never going to win with this guy. “This is as happy as you’re going to get, huh?”

“I’m never happy.”

Beck paused, frowning at Tron. For a long second, nothing was said, until Tron cracked a small smile. “I’m being sarcastic, Beck.”

“I didn’t know you were programmed to do that.” Beck said, starting to smile as well despite his surprise. It was nice to see the old Program was capable of other expressions besides that perpetual scowl. “You have the weirdest sense of humor.”

“I know. I think I get it from my User.”

 


End file.
